


The Aftermath of a Breakup

by feelpil



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Author curses a lot, But They Find Their Way Back Eventually, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, M/M, Or do they?, Post-Relationship, Slice of Life, Stream Time Of Our Life, they broke up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 02:50:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19880389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feelpil/pseuds/feelpil
Summary: It was beautiful while it lasted.But what if it ends?





	The Aftermath of a Breakup

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my second story here and I'm not sure how this will go yet, or if I'd be able to update this regularly. Nevertheless, I just had to write this out last night. Here we are though :D enjoy!

Heartbreaks aren’t as tragic as the novels make it out to be.

Sometimes, breakups aren’t that dynamic—and sometimes, the aftermath of separation is more confusing than it is painful.

_Wonpil_ is just desperate for things to go back as the way it was. Back when they were actually happy—and when the apartment wasn’t filled with heavy sighs and glances that never actually reach each other’s eyes. He just wanted for _him_ to be _better_.

But the next thing he knew, everything went out of hand.

__“_ So you left for real now?” _He just stares at the empty room he always complained about being messy. Now, he didn’t have to. And though there wasn’t anyone to answer him anyway, the words come out as sharp as it always does. Maybe out of habit.

But he didn’t mean it that way.

Just that now, there wasn’t that annoying voice that would shoot back at him, saying— _ _”_ I sure am.”_

_He sure did_. Finally, he acted on his words.

Finally, Jae had the guts.

Wonpil could finally enjoy silence… But until when?

* * *

_Jae_ was a mess underneath massive boulders of bags.

He took his belongings—every single one of them—before he tossed them in separate Eco bags and dashed off to a cab. Everything happened in less than an hour—and it’s funny how an _argument_ could literally send you outside a household—to empty roads—then to an entire different city. He would have laughed at a scene like that in a rom-com—where the owner of the house starts to throw their ex-lover’s belongings out in the open, but maybe not anymore after what happened tonight. It was way too real now, and he had to be crazy to be able to laugh at his own demise.

Not that he would be able to sit through a rom-com anyway. Not anymore.

At least _Wonpil_ didn’t have to throw his clothes out. Jae did everything in his own accord.

That’s how he ended up outside _Brian’s_ household, rampantly pressing on the doorbell like a madman. The door busts open just in time. Just before his 30th press—and just before the bomb inside his chest went off.

_“Dude.”_ Jae inhales deeply. He didn’t know if he should be angry that Brian took forever to open the damned door—or feel sad that he was really about to be homeless just before the door finally opened and his friend appeared with the least welcoming expression. He was considering sleeping out in the streets with his Eco bags as cushion, and maybe breaking in the house the next day just so he could _maybe_ take a bath.

“Wha…” Brian stares back at him with least conviction. Just _what in the world_ was Jae doing outside his home? At 2 AM? “What’s that behind you?”

Jae bit his lip hard—the heaviness finally setting in his chest. He, too, would be surprised if he found anyone outside his home at this hour—but he didn’t have one to begin with. Maybe he should just be glad that the door was now open, and that he was one step away from being homeless. He forces a word out his aching throat, at least.

“I left.”

Brian’s right hand reaches his scalp. They were too old for sudden pranks. And he was way too awake to be dreaming, thanks to those frantic doorbell rings. For sure, the bags—if he remembered correctly—were the ones from when they used to grocery shop together back in college. That was quite a while ago. Anyways, before he could even ask what Jae meant when he said he “left”, he should at least let his friend in.

But Jae already did that.

“You’re too slow.” The boy spat, dropping his body and his Eco bags on the nearest couch at once.

Finally, the light in the living room shone on his old friend’s face.

Jae’s eyes alone could tell a story.

And Brian knew exactly what the guy meant when he said he left.

* * *

Jae lays flat on the wooden floor of Brian’s guest room. It wasn’t that the bed was uncomfortable—it’s just that everything he’s seen so far in Younghyun’s “humble home” had punched a hole at his already shattered ego. Now, there wasn’t much left—not even enough for him to think that he deserved a soft bed at this point.

Jae chose to join the shards of his shattered ego on the floor—where it felt right. Where he felt he belonged.

_Aw, Jaehyung, stop that._ There wasn’t time to dive in self-loathe when he still had a bunch of things to do. Well, technically there wasn’t much—but in his mind, there was a load of stuff he had to accomplish just so he wasn’t at the opposite end of him and his friend’s _financial spectrum_. He didn’t want to be included in Brian’s ever-growing list of expenses, at least—and his bank account could only handle so much for the next few months. Or weeks.

First, he needed a damn job. And that one thing wasn’t as easy as it sounds.

As if he hadn’t already been trying for these few months now. If only he actually had one already—maybe Wonpil didn’t—

His eyes land on the bundles of Eco bags just across him—vision growing blurry.

Maybe he wouldn’t be here.

Jae shoots himself up to head toward his darned belongings. _Resume._ He had to fix his resume. So he could apply for a position. Get interviewed. Get called back. He needed to start somewhere—as if he hadn’t already had numerous failed attempts up until the third step. He had to keep restarting. Again.

Several rummaging through bags later, he finds his face in a pool of tears—and somehow, he finally finds his papers too.

He drags an entire arm across his face and sniffs some air in his congested chest—which he did, barely. Now, the brown envelope caught some drops of his tears. _Ah, shoot._ Jae flips it open anyways and takes out everything inside before he laid it across the floor. One by one.

When he said he brought every single one of his belongings earlier—he meant _every single one of them._

Even the things he didn’t need.

On the floor were the heaviest pieces of belongings he brought with him.

Jae dares to pick the very first one up. Maybe it isn’t that bad that he brought it with him? Maybe he’d actually find strength in some of the words written in these letters from __years ago?__

Afterall, Wonpil always knew how to pick him up through their conversations—that was, before everything went in in a downward spiral and all they ever talked about was how _tiring_ it got. Before, Wonpil always knew what to say for him to feel all right—until Jae somehow _fucked up_ and now, everything was gone.

Everything.

Maybe he could use some of those words now.

Jae drops every bit of his pride to draw the paper closer so he could read.

> _Jaehyung,_
> 
> _You probably won’t read a sentence off these letters because you hate when I get cheezy like this. Still, it’s not a reason for me to hold back. You got yourself into this ever since you pranked me awhile back--now it’s time for me to make you regret that you made me start loving you because you told me I should smile more often (Wow, this is actually harder than I thought--thanks for the compliment by the way)._

__

Jae finds himself sobbing again, in the most ridiculous way—because he’s laughing at the same time while he harshly wiped a tear off his cheek.

> _Anyways, here’s a bunch of letters I probably wouldn’t let you see unless you do (or unless you forcefully take them away from me). In case it lands in your possession--ONLY open it when you need it. And I mean when you start going downhill in those days. You know what days I’m talking about._
> 
> _I don’t want the words to lose effect. Clear?_

__

The funny thing is that when Jae actually received it from Wonpil—not because he stole it—he actually followed the instructions. This is only the second time he’s read this particular letter. A smile forms on the corners of his lips against his will.

> _And remember--I’ll always be here for you. Always. :)_

__

Jae placed the paper back down on the cold floor. It used to be a scented one—but in time, it probably worn off. And maybe that was what Wonpil meant when he said he didn’t want his words to lose effect—like the scented paper loses its scent over time. Loses its purpose.

His heart aches at the fact that he keeps convincing himself that he didn’t need _him_.

When in fact, he’d cry over a short letter that doesn’t even go into detail about whatever.

Or maybe he’s just tired and sick of himself—that everything else puts him to tears. Maybe he just needs some rest. That’s all.

He places the letters back in the enveloped where it belonged. He needed to shut off that voice in him that kept tempting him to read all the letters. Every single one.

Because as far as he’s aware—they were _done_.

Jae reminded himself that Wonpil wouldn’t be there for him anymore. And definitely not always.

And that sometime, he needed to throw out these letters before he starts to depend his entire life on it.

Before he desperately crawls back to Wonpil and drag him down in his trenches, too.


End file.
